Shades of Solstice Past
by royza-hawkstang
Summary: Exploring the abandoned house of a former alchemist, Edward and Alphonse come across a long-buried secret.


_A/N: Happy Tuesday, everyone, and Merry Christmas! A belated Happy Hanukkah, a Joyous Kwanzaa, and happy holidays to everyone._

 _This is not the story I set out to write, but it's the one that turned out better than the story I had originally planned. I know it's still a little rough - I banged it out over the course of three hours on Christmas Eve. But I hope you enjoy it anyway._

 _I wish you and yours all the very best that you can have. Have a safe and happy holiday, my loves._

 _\- royza-hawkstang_

 _I do not own FMA._

* * *

 **Shades of Solstice Past**

The two figures trudged along the country road, leaving a trail of footprints fading back toward the now-distant village. Edward walked with his shoulders drawn up, pushing the thick scarf around his neck up to cover his nose and mouth. "It gets so much colder when you're out in the open…."

"Because there's no buildings to block the wind," Alphonse answered over his shoulder. He walked ahead of his brother, using his larger, tireless body to break a trail. "But I don't think it's that much farther. The stationmaster said it was close to three miles."

"He also added 'if it's still standing,'" Ed added. "It doesn't exactly bode well for us finding anything."

"Neither does the fact that this alchemist's house hasn't been occupied in at least eight years." Looking up, Al paused briefly before pointing. "That must be it. It certainly _looks_ like an abandoned house."

The building set back from the road, they saw as they approached, was run-down if not outright decrepit. Two stories presented shattered and missing windows toward the road from between the brown strings of leafless vines that curled from the ground to the roof. Shingles were missing in large patches, pieces of eavestroughs dangling or outright gone. The brothers stopped outside the front gate, which consisted of severely rusted hinges and several missing slats of the once-white pickets.

Eyeing the building doubtfully, Edward shook his head slowly. "Hard to imagine anyone living here… ever," he said, his voice low in quiet countryside. Taking a deep breath, he pushed experimentally on the gate and vaulted over it when it refused to open. Alphonse followed, the clanking of his armour muted by the three feet of snow all around them.

The front door was covered in splinters but still solid. Edward opted to avoid it, Alphonse boosting him through the gap where the glass had been.

The interior had probably once been a living room or parlour in its heyday, and even then, probably not terribly well-appointed. Dust covered the overstuffed couch, stuffing spilling out of splits in the dried-out leather. A threadbare rug lay on the otherwise bare wooden floor in front of the long-cold fireplace grate. An open-faced curio cabinet stood to one side of the room, filled with innocuous knick knacks and two or three picture frames.

Edward moved closer, blowing dust from the glass of one frame and bending to get a better look. The grainy sepia photograph showed a smiling woman with fine, fair hair and bright brown eyes holding an equally smiley toddler. Grime on the glass obscured whether the child was male or female.

"Brother, open up!"

Shaking himself free from reverie, trying to puzzle out the mystery of just who had lived here, he turned away from the photo and headed for the front door. Letting his brother inside, Edward turned to survey the foyer.

"If I were an alchemist's library, I think I'd be on the first floor," he said, before pointing to the hallway beside the staircase leading to the second floor. "What do you think: that way?"

"Makes sense," Alphonse agreed. "I think I'll check upstairs anyway, just to make sure we don't miss anything."

"Fair enough. Holler if you find anything."

They split up, Edward heading down the hallway, listening to the stairs creak as his brother ascended to the second floor. Dust and grime rose in small clouds around his boots, floorboards groaning softly underfoot as he went. An open door on the right revealed a bathroom with rusted sink and bathtub faucets and crumbling wall tiles. Edward gave it no more than a cursory looks as he moved past, opening the next door in the left.

"Paydirt," he muttered, and then, louder, "Hey, Al! Found it!"

The room wasn't overly large, but every available space was filled. A narrow space in the centre housed two desks and their respective chairs, the surfaces covered in books. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, rolling ladders spaced at uneven intervals. Sheafs of brittle and aged-looking paper were stacked on one desk, covered in faded writing in ink.

"I found something, too," Al's voice called from the top of the stairs a few minutes later. The creaking resumed, along with dull thuds and clanks, as he came down. "You're going to want to see this."

"Sure." Leaning over the fragile stack if loose papers, Edward carefully set them aside one by one, skimming the contents. It was very obviously in the personal code of whatever alchemist had lived here, one that he couldn't make heads or tails of at a glance… until he reached the fifth page.

There, staring up at him from the yellowed looseleaf was what appeared to be a rough, idle sketch of a very familiar transmutation circle.

"Brother?" Standing in the doorway, Alphonse held out a piece of writing-covered paper that had been tri-folded, along with the envelope it had been with. Stepping close, Ed squinted in the dim light to read the signature and address. When he did, his eyes went wide.

"No way…."

* * *

 _December 21st, 1900_

Long strands of garland hung in shallow arcs between the lampposts, snow falling gently as they walked through the grey afternoon toward the western edge of town. Riza reached up, tugging her knitted hat lower over her ears to protect them from the December chill.

The motion caught Roy's eye and he gave her a sidelong lopsided grin. "You didn't have to walk with me, you know," he said, shifting his suitcase from one hand to the other. "I feel bad, making you come out in the cold like this."

"I actually like it," she told him, tilting her head back to watch the falling flakes, blinking as one or two tried to land on her lashes. She held the pose only for a moment, but when she glanced back to her father's apprentice, Roy was staring at her unabashed.

"…W-what?" she stammered, feeling her cheeks flush, and not from the cold.

"Nothing, you just…." His own cheeks reddened, and he hastily looked away, his voice dropping to a mumble. "You, uh…. You look really… cute."

Uncomfortable silence swelled between them, broken only by the sounds of the town and the crunch and squeak of their boots in the snow. Riza snuck another glance at him, finding his eyes in the ground and an expression of mixed embarrassment and new misery in those dark eyes. The telltale look of a boy who thinks he has been rejected.

Reaching out, she wrapped her mittened hand around his gloved fingers; Roy's head snapped up, surprise written clear as day across his face, wiping away the sadness that had been there before.

"Thank you," she said, quietly, her smile soft and sincere. "It's a nice little parting comment to keep me thinking of you while you're home in Central for Solstice."

They climbed the few steps of the train station, moving past the ticket kiosk to the wooden platform. Roy checked the time on the station clock, before turning back to her. "I'll be gone for two weeks," he reminded her, almost regretfully. "Is one comment enough to keep you thinking of me that long?"

"I don't know," she admitted honestly. One small shoulder raised and lowered in a shrug. "I would think so. Though if we want to be sure… I could write you a letter?"

Roy grinned. "I'd like that. I'd like it a lot." He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of an approaching train whistle, then turned back to her. "It's four days until Solstice, now. Why don't we each write a letter on Solstice and mail it the day after? That way we'll get them just before New Year's, and I'll be back a few days after that."

She smiled, nodding once in confirmation. "Sounds like a plan to me." She squeezed his hand, then let go. "I should get back; I didn't exactly tell Father I was going with you and if he notices I'm gone…."

"Riza, wait." He dropped his suitcase to the platform, wrapping both arms around her in a bear hug. Riza froze briefly before giving in to the embrace, closing her eyes to better absorb the feeling into her memory. "Happy Solstice," he murmured into her ear. "I'll see you soon."

"Happy Solstice, Roy," she answered softly. "Safe travels."

* * *

Edward took the letter carefully, afraid to hold it with more than his fingertips lest the fragile paper crumble. At the top of the page was written 'Dear Roy:' in vaguely familiar handwriting. A person's style changed over time, but it held a distinct similarity to anything he had ever seen handwritten by Riza Hawkeye.

Alphonse leaned closer. "Is it really from who I think it is?"

"Looks like," Edward muttered, moving toward the hallway to see better. "Let's see – ' _Dear Roy:'_ Huh, I think that's the first time I've ever heard if her referring to him by his name _._

 _"'It was a quiet lead-up to Solstice without you here. Father surprised me this morning with a gift; I really didn't expect one from him. He's been so busy, I don't know where he found the time to go shopping. It's a beautiful dark red pea coat, with silver buttons, and should last me the next four or five winters. He seemed to appreciate the three big notebooks I gave him; they're the ones I ordered from Central last month when I realized he was on his last one. He prefers the ones with actual book binding. Spiral bound ones are nowhere near thick enough, for the rate he goes through them.'_ "

Edward paused, frowning at the delicate page. "I wonder why she wouldn't expect a gift from her dad. If it was just the two of them in this house, then I would have thought they would be pretty close."

Head tilted skeptically, Alphonse gave distinct doubtful impression. "Think about it," he reasoned. "Have you ever heard Lieutenant Hawkeye mention her family? Even as private as she is, if she was close with her father, don't you think she might have mentioned him, even just in passing?"

"True." Ed looked back over his shoulder to the papers he had been leafing through. "And if her dad was the alchemist who lived here… well, you and I know that having an alchemist for a dad doesn't always make for the best parent in the world." Turning his attention back to the letter, the better to distract himself from the sudden unpleasant reminder, he read on.

"' _I thought I might spend a quiet day here at home before going into town by myself for the big Solstice celebration tonight, but when I mentioned it to Father over breakfast, he actually looked like he might be considering going. It certainly couldn't hurt; it would be the first time in months that some of the townspeople had seen him. Quite a few of the older residents remember when he and my mother first came here, and Father would help with minor repairs to make a living. This was before he started his research._

 _I should wrap this up; it might be a holiday but there are still chores to do. I hope this letter finds you well. Please wish your mother and sisters a Happy Solstice for me, and I'll see you soon._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Riza Hawkeye_

 _Solstice, 1900_ '"

"Wow," Al said quietly, once Edward had finished. "I wouldn't have ever guessed that the Lieutenant had an alchemist dad, let alone that she and the Colonel have known each other this long. I always thought they must have met in Ishval." His voice turned thoughtful. "I wonder if the Colonel grew up in the village?"

"No, I think their connection goes deeper than that." Handing the letter back to his brother, Edward moved toward the desks on the centre of the room. "Come look at this." He moved the last sheet of paper he had seen to where Al could get a better a look. "This look familiar?"

If his armour body had needed lungs, Al likely would have gasped in shock. "That's the Colonel's Flame alchemy transmutation circle!" He drew back, the glow of the helmet's eyes still on the page. "So… did he live _here_? I found the letter in a room upstairs, but I just thought maybe Hawkeye never sent it." He looked down, studying the letter and envelope in hand. "He would have had to bring it back with him."

"I think so." Edward tapped the top right corner of the page, where a name and date were scrawled in untidy script. "It would make sense if he spent at least a few years here. Most alchemy apprentices spend a few years living with their masters, after all."

The words under his finger read 'Berthold Hawkeye, Spring 1902.'

Al shook his head, producing a series of creaks and small clanks. "Incredible…. So she and the Colonel were kids here together while he was studying under her father, who originally developed the Flame alchemy the Colonel uses. Then they both joined the military, went to Ishval, went to East City…."

"Small world, huh?" Edward's grin didn't last long. Taking the page with the transmutation circle on it, he buried it at the bottom of the stack. "But with as secretive as Mustang and Hawkeye are, I'm betting there aren't too many people that are in on their little secret, if any."

"We should keep this to ourselves," Al agreed, immediately picking up in his brother's train of thought. "As far as anyone knows, we found nothing, we saw nothing –"

"And we know nothing," Ed said grimly. "This isn't our secret to spill." Golden eyes went to the letter still in Alphonse's hand, his expression softening. "… I guess it _is_ kind of sweet, though."


End file.
